Passing Flame
by Ssjshadic
Summary: When the torch burns itself out, how do we keep ourselves going? If that smile disappears, how to mend the absence? What if someone reacted too quickly, his friend too slowly to stop him- who can stoke a fire that's died?
1. Passing Flame

Disclaimer: I never have, and still don't, own Fairy Tail.

* * *

 **Passing Flame**

The town of Magnolia rested dormant. The sun had not yet risen. Anyone awake at this hour couldn't be blamed for mistaking the morning for the previous evening, since darkness still lay over everything.

A large, looming hooded figure broke the quiet of the town church. The new arrival moved slow and deliberate; he set the doors closed behind him with his hands rather than releasing them. He turned and listened. Once certain the place was empty, Elfman Strauss lifted the hood of his oversized robe. The Take Over mage took a candle from a stand near the entrance, using a match to light the wick. His eyes lingered on the flame, and he felt the ache in his heart weigh heavier.

Lumbering forward toward the altar, he sat a few rows from the front. He rubbed at his eyes with large fingers. The middle Strauss sibling hadn't slept more than a few hours for several days. He sighed, collecting his thoughts. More than a few things had brought him here, and he'd come early to guarantee privacy.

A few minutes were all he allowed himself, anxious and afraid that he might lose his composure if he hesitated too long. Elfman brought himself to the altar with weary legs. He set the candle on the floor in front of him, and he knelt down.

"Kami-sama," he said, his deep voice carrying throughout the church despite how soft his speech. "I came this morning for help."

Elfman closed his eyes.

"A few days ago, my family," he began, pausing before clarifying. "My larger family lost someone very close to all of us in the recent war. The- the conflict ended sooner because of it, but I don't believe any of us find much comfort in that."

Elfman closed his hands into fists on top of his knees. He took a wet breath. He wanted to be ready, but he didn't have the fortitude to delve into that yet.

"My older sister couldn't bring herself to come with me today," he said, bowing his head. "Please don't think any less of her for it."

His eyes stung dry, but he was too distraught to cry. He pressed on.

"I came here, really, for my younger sister, Lisanna," he said. "She has secluded herself from our sister and from me. I only see her when she comes out of her room to eat. After taking the news of our loss," he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "She insisted that neither of us talk to her, that she just wants to be alone. Nee-chan has been tormenting herself trying to get her out of the house again, but she won't speak to us."

Elfman let his body fall forward, almost touching his forehead to the floor.

"I feel so powerless," he whispered. "I hate to see Nee-chan cry, but I can't face Lisanna. I don't know what to say to her. I'm desperate. I don't want to lose my baby sister a second time."

He couldn't speak for a while. He wished the tears would come.

"Please help me, Kami-sama."

Elfman waited for something that felt an eternity. He looked up from the floor and stared at the tiny flame in the melting candle. The small comfort the little light provided vanished with a brief draft that extinguished it. He brought his hands to his face, as if he could hide behind his huge palms.

 _Men protect with their fists. Men heal with their hands._

He pulled his hands down to uncover his eyes. The voice had been quiet, perhaps even imagined. He waited, praying to hear it again, hoping the message might be repeated. Nothing came. Elfman held his hands out in front of him. He curled his fingers in on one, considering what he'd heard. On his left, he wielded a massive fist capable of crushing enemies and threats to his loved ones. On his right, he still had a strong hand, just as capable, but maybe-

He stood, pulling his hood back over his face before hurrying out of the church. The night had broken into twilight outside. The town still sat almost silent, but a few others now walked the streets. Elfman kept his presence scarce. He hadn't wanted attention before he came, and he didn't want it now.

He all but tore his robe off once he got home. Mira had already left for work at the guildhall. Elfman didn't stop for any part of the meal she'd left out for him.

He hesitated at Lisanna's door, but after steeling himself, he turned the handle. His younger sister lay on her bed, facing away from him. He didn't speak; instead he sat in a chair. At the sound of the chair legs moving, Lisanna rolled over.

"I said I don't want to go today either Mira"

She stopped short. Elfman swallowed, but still didn't say anything, only smiling with as much sympathy as he could muster. Lisanna's expression of surprise faded back to one of indifference and she plopped her head onto her pillow. Elfman didn't miss the tear tracks on her face even as she tried wiping them away.

"I told you I want to be alone, Elf-nii-chan."

Elfman didn't move. She sat up in her bed and waved her arms at him. Her face contorted into one of pain.

"Go on, I said. Shoo!"

Still the Take Over mage stayed put. Lisanna got up from her bed, new tears forming in her reddened eyes. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration.

"Are you deaf?" She shouted. Her hands closed into fists. "Leave me alone!"

Elfman stood then, but he didn't leave. He pulled her into a hug with his palms open, gentle yet firm. He held her, trying to convey with his actions all the things that he couldn't put into words. She resisted for several moments before conceding and sobbing. Elfman closed his eyes, rocking on his feet with his baby sister while she wailed. He didn't coo at her, didn't tell her things were going to be all right- he knew words wouldn't get through to her.

After many minutes of rocking and a few flailing, pounding fists against his chest from Lisanna, his sister's cries softened and waned into sniffles. Another few moments of silence passed before she murmured.

"I miss him," she said. Elfman hugged her a little tighter. "I miss Natsu, Elf-nii-chan."

Elfman let out a breath. His relief was faint, but it let his tears come through.

"I miss him, too."

* * *

 **A/N:** Argh! My feels. Lowkey, reading this to myself to spellcheck it put a lump in my throat. I suspect that means I did something right. ... Yay.

This is my third Fairy Tail fic, and also my first real try at the Hurt/Comfort genre. I think this also falls into Tragedy, but I've been mistaken before, so let me know! The priority of this thing will be intermittent with Sweet Somethings, both a little behind Mutual Burns (even if the update schedule indicates otherwise.) If you enjoyed reading this, greetings kindred messed up soul! Also, leave a review. If you didn't like it, gimme your very valid reasons why in that little review box!


	2. Parent

Disclaimer: If I did own Fairy Tail, I wouldn't know which direction to take it in.

* * *

 **Parent**

"Mira~" Cana sang, sliding her empty mug down the bar counter. "Gimme another one!"

Cana chortled while Mira sighed. Night in Magnolia was fast approaching. The guildhall had cleared out except for Makarov, herself, Mira and Kinana.

"I think you've had enough, Cana," Mira said, taking the mug and rinsing it. Cana slumped forward on the counter.

"You can't cut me off now," she said, smiling at something she couldn't remember. "I just need one more for my pre-game before I go out tonight."

"Cana," Mira said. The Take Over mage placed her hands on the counter top and gave Cana a stern look. "You have had"

"Nee-chan?"

Both women turned to the guildhall entrance, Cana a second after Mira. Elfman's imposing figure stood in the doorway.

"Elfman," Mira said, almost leaping over the bar to run to him. "You didn't show up all day. I was worried."

The large man's hard features softened into a little smile. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry, Nee-chan."

"It's all right. Did you talk to Lisanna? How is she doing?"

"Better," a tired voice said from behind the middle Strauss sibling. Cana watched from the bar as a pale Lisanna appeared, looking worn and sheepish. Mira yelped in surprise and ran to hug her sister. "I'm sorry for worrying you and Elf-nii-chan, Mira-nee."

"Please," Mira said. "Don't fret over me. How are you feeling? Are you hungry? What did you do all day?"

Cana raised her hand in greeting, cutting into Mira's mothering ramble.

"Hey~, Lisanna," she said, slouching more than she needed to. "Tell your stingy sister to gimme another drink."

All three Strauss siblings looked at Cana, who may or may not have hiccupped. Lisanna looked at Mira.

"How much has she had?"

Mira sighed again.

"Forty."

Lisanna scratched her cheek.

"That doesn't sound like too"

"Kegs."

"Oh."

Elfman announced how manly Cana was for drinking that much. Mira silenced him and made the giant cower with a flash of her demon glare. Both of them relaxed when Lisanna giggled at little at her brother's strange mannerisms. Cana gave up.

"Ah, I don't need rude compliments from this crowd," she said, standing up. She made a point of walking in a straight line to the door before she turned to Mira. "I can get my drink on elsewhere."

The booze loving card mage gave Lisanna a quick peck on the cheek and winked at her.

"Glad to have you back, sweetie."

Cana sauntered through the nighttime streets of Magnolia. She had to take special care to avoid any lingering eyes, which proved more difficult than usual. She had grown accustomed to ogling due to her more than casual attire and her association with the guild brought even more attention, but despite her tipsy state she knew there would be another reason for people to stare tonight.

She rolled her eyes at the whispers of a passing couple before she threw her hair over one shoulder and strolled into the local pub. Mira hadn't been wrong- she did have quite a bit to drink, even by her standards, but she'd been dry since the... the-

"Whoops," she whispered to no one in particular, downing another shot of rum. "Almost went to a bad place."

She waved for another round of both her beer and her shots before she glanced around the bar and huffed. Nobody had come up to flirt with her or even offer her a drink. Did she put out a more intimidating aura this evening for some reason? Cana had an ability to frighten off low lives, but a small part of her expected there to be at least a few jokers trying to console her. Guys always tried to swoop in to comfort a lady who's griev-

"Damn," she muttered, more aggressive when she downed the next one. "It keeps coming back."

She figured maybe she needed a change of scenery. The vibes here weren't conducive to the mood she wanted. She stumbled outside, more natural in her missteps than earlier. She chuckled into the dark night.

"Somewhere in this great town," she said. "Someone will appear to show me a good time!"

The hand attached to the arm she swept out hit a hard chest. Cana turned, expecting to find a handsome face subsequently attached to a passable fellow.

"Hello, Cana."

To her simultaneous surprise, disappointment and repressed relief, her father, Gildarts Clive, was there instead. The card wizard's jaw dropped for a moment before she huffed and remembered herself.

"Oh," she said, blowing her hair from her face. "I thought you were traveling, old timer."

Gildarts shrugged off the pack he always carried from the shoulder of his prosthetic arm.

"I heard the news."

Cana tensed, turning away from her father. His tone indicated a topic she'd prefer to avoid however possible.

"And what brings you here this time of night," she asked, a teasing smirk creeping onto her face while she poked at his chest. "You're not trying to make passes at the women around here, are you?"

Cana wagged a finger in her father's face. Gildarts' stony expression didn't shift.

"I saw Mira at the guild," he said, crossing his arms. "She told me you got out of hand drinking today."

Cana tapped her chin with a finger. She shifted her weight from one hip to the other.

"Damn, she's a sly one," she said. The street swayed under her even though she hadn't boarded any trains. "Conspiring with my old man behind my back."

"Cana," Gildarts said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You need to be more responsible."

The card wizard stared at the crash mage for a full minute before outright cackling. She doubled over in laughter, hands on her knees for support.

"This is such a cliché scene," she said, spinning around with her arms out to indicate everything around her. "We have the concerned friend," she put sarcasm on the last word. "The problem drunk and a lecturing father!"

She glared at Gildarts, leaning against the window of the pub to keep steady.

"All it needs is a precious little brother or sister that will guilt me into coming home and swearing off alcohol!"

She took a breath, feeling the dryness of her throat for the first time that evening. She could use a drink. Gildarts' face grew dark for a moment. He turned his eyes skyward, his voice wistful.

"Yeah," he said, not without a bit of humor. "I suppose that's true. And I have the perfect kid in mind for the role."

Cana snapped her fingers; irritated her evening had been interrupted.

"Then bring 'em out," she said. "I have things I"

"But he's gone, Cana."

The card mage froze. The glass of the pub window felt colder against her back than a moment ago. She lowered her eyes, mumbling.

"Shut up."

Gildarts sighed, heaving up his pack and bringing the strap over his head across his chest.

"You don't want to talk about it, fine," he said, taking her wrist in his hand. "But you aren't drinking anymore tonight."

Cana ripped her hand free, all but spitting in the crash mage's face.

"I'm not a child!"

Gildarts returned her harsh expression, his tone biting more than she'd ever heard.

"No," he said, leaning toward her. "You're just _acting_ like one."

Cana felt her face burn. She didn't tolerate anyone talking to her like that. She took an uncoordinated swing at his face, and to her satisfaction, connected. Gildarts, of course, didn't have any kind of reaction. She seethed for a minute before he hoisted her up with one hand about her waist.

"Put me down!" She shouted, kicking her feet in the air. The crash mage didn't even put her over his shoulder; he just carried her under his arm. "I will make a scene here! People don't like it when a strange old man carries off a young lady!"

Gildarts had the nerve to chuckle at her comment.

"I spent quite a bit of time bragging about my daughter before I left," he said. "Wouldn't be surprised if everyone in Magnolia knows by now."

Cana, still struggling, grumbled to herself about understanding why no one in the bar had approached her.

The walk to Gildarts' house was brief, but Cana nonetheless managed to slip into a half-conscious state on the way there. She opened her eyes to the feeling of a bed under her and Gildarts pressing a damp cold cloth to her forehead. She scowled as best she could.

"I hate you."

She would have tried escaping, but the mattress, while primitive, was comfortable. She kept one foot to the floor to prevent the spinning of the room.

"That's fine," she heard him say. "I can live with that."

Cana fell in and out of an aggravated, restless doze. She couldn't fall asleep. In her semi-lucid state, she told herself the problem came from being dragged to a house she'd never been to before and because she just didn't go to bed at this hour. She knew they were lies, but the reality meant confronting things she wasn't prepared for.

For the nth time she tossed her head to the side. Gildarts' chiseled face greeted her.

"Feeling any better?"

She rolled the other way, agitation evident in the grunt she gave for an answer.

"Tell me if you need water."

She expected to hear him move after that, but from what she could tell, he stayed. Cana clutched the one sheet she had; in her haste to make a point of conveying irritation toward Gildarts, her foot had lost contact with the floor. The card mage had experienced imbalance and spinning rooms from drinking before, but not since the last S-class exam. Her stomach garbled.

Not without hesitation, she turned back around to let a foot down; what she saw almost turned her sober.

Though he wasn't looking at her, Gildarts sat with his face in profile. The crash mage wore an expression Cana hadn't seen on him before. His chin quaked from the rigidity of his jaw, numerous veins pulsed on his neck, and the easy calm of his eyes had been replaced by a coarse grimace. She'd been intimidated by the sheer volume of his confidence and levity and stardom as a child; the hybrid of dark rage and loathing he had aimed at the world outside _frightened_ her.

Gildarts leaned forward in his chair, putting his face in his hands. A small part of Cana wanted to hang on to the vexation from earlier. The rest of her prompted her to reach a hand out to touch his arm.

"Dad," she said. Gildarts snapped his head up, eyes locking onto hers. The card wizard's gaze darted elsewhere. The realization that she hadn't called him that before embarrassed her. "I can't sleep."

Gildarts brought his hand- the only flesh and blood hand he had- to hold hers.

"I've had nightmares."

Cana wanted to crawl into a hole and wither under a hangover. She'd never been one to complain or ask for favors since her mother died. In a voice so soft she almost didn't recognize it, he whispered.

"What can I do?"

She felt him rub over her knuckles with his callous thumb. She felt more comfort from the gesture than she might ever admit. Her eyelids drifted downward and she squeezed his hand.

"Just keep me grounded."

Sleep began tugging her away. She pulled the thin sheet up to her chin, curling in her legs. She felt a light squeeze on her hand, and a calming pressure that didn't let go.

"I can do that."

* * *

 **A/N:** This one was... interesting to write. I had to pull on a very limited amount of personal experience and take chances with a few things. The kinship in this one is something that's fascinating to me. Please let me know how I did with these characters, dear readers.

As ever, if you enjoyed this bit, leave a review! If you didn't, I'm sure the voices will be happy to help with that! ... Don't you all hear them too?

 **Review Reply Corner**

bstarqueen: Thank you! Like the other FT bits I've worked/am working on, this just walked into my head. I'm glad I pulled off the genres correctly! Thank you for that assurance. As far as NaLi, I haven't seen a lot of pieces that actively avoid the 'issue', though I have seen Lisanna hate, which seems unnecessary. But I digress. Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	3. Whisper

Disclaimer: It's too early in the day for me to have to tell you that I don't own Fairy Tail.

* * *

 **Whisper**

Wendy shuffled from Fairy Hills toward the guildhall. The young dragon slayer had lain in bed watching the morning creep into her room, trying in vain to rest, for the last few hours.

Charla lay curled in her arms. The Exceed had become more accepting, even prompting, of cuddles than days before. Wendy rubbed Charla's ears- the white cat had taken an angry accusation from Happy quite hard. The blue-haired girl shook her head; everyone had gone through a brief stage of assigning blame for what happened. She knew Happy hadn't meant it, but she hoped that the blue Exceed would be at the guild today, if only that he might apologize. Charla's appetite had waned into unhealthy territory.

"Good morning," Wendy said upon opening the guild doors. Half-hearted enthusiasm for her arrival greeted her. Mira's seemed to be the one smile left in the place, and even hers appeared strained at times. The sky dragon wandered to the table where the rest of her team sat. Erza scooted into the booth to allow Wendy a space. "Still no Lucy?"

Erza shook her head, fiddling with her strawberry cheesecake, her elbow on the table and one hand holding her face.

"I'm afraid not. It's a bit worrisome, but of course she did request doing the job herself," Erza said. "I'm sure she's fine. Right, Gray?"

Wendy placed Charla on the table and looked toward the devil slayer, who stared into his mug and swirled whatever beverage he had inside it. He grunted something along the lines of assurance, eyes flickering to acknowledge Wendy before they returned to his drink. A moment later, he stood, strolling up to the job request board.

"He's been looking and pacing back here since I arrived," Erza said. Wendy noticed the faint concern laced in her voice. The warrior mage caught the dragon slayer looking and smiled a little. "Have you eaten?"

She shook her head, stroking Charla's back.

"Well, while starting the day with dessert isn't proper," Erza began, sighing before pushing her plate toward Wendy. "Have some if you wish."

Wendy tightened her jaw to keep from gaping at her scarlet-haired friend. Erza never shared her desserts. Moving past that, Wendy took the strawberry from the cake and held it by the stem in front of Charla. The Exceed regarded it with a blank expression and turned to look away.

"Charla," Wendy said. "Please eat something."

After a moment, the cat complied, nibbling at the red fruit. Wendy breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She took a fork and placed a small bite of the cheesecake in her mouth, scanning the rest of the floor as she did. Romeo and Macao were sitting closer together than usual, and Wakaba had yet to make any perverted passes at the young waitresses. Elfman looked a bit more upbeat with Lisanna back, though neither Strauss sibling talked very much. Alzack and Bisca had taken their daughter on a minor job with them; Wendy assumed it was to provide them an opportunity to explain mortality to her as well as pay their bills. Jet and Droy hovered around Levy, who sat beside Gajeel. The only part of that scene that seemed out of place was that Levy had been staring at the same page of whatever book she had open since Wendy walked in. The iron dragon slayer munched on some dinnerware he'd no doubt pilfered from the kitchen. Cana hadn't appeared yet; no one sat at the bar save Makarov.

Wendy felt the dessert hit her tongue, and she paused with the fork in her mouth. The taste struck her as bittersweet rather than sugary. She slouched a bit in her seat.

"What do you think you'll do today?"

Wendy felt a hand stroke her hair and turned toward Erza. It amazed her every time the incredible warrior showed her mothering side to her; she admired that ability to play either role as well as she pleased. She swallowed and set the fork down.

"I thought I'd pay him a visit," she said, keeping her eyes down on the table. "I think I have some things I'd like to say that I didn't before."

The hand on her head pulled her closer. Erza handled her gently, not squashing her to her chest plate, as was her habit.

"That sounds like"

The guildhall doors burst open, interrupting Erza. Wendy whipped her head around along with everyone else, part from surprise, part from habit.

"Where is the Master Makarov?"

The tension in the guild spiked as numerous men dressed in flowing white and blue robes walked in, led by an older man with a scar down his face and a beard that almost reached his hips. Makarov stood up from his spot at the bar.

"What can I do for the magic council today?"

Wendy understood her master wanted no part of the organization, and nobody else did either. Why were they bothering Fairy Tail at a time like this? The man in charge pulled out a sheet of paper with fancy calligraphy scrawled on it.

"We have come to inform you of our intention to exhume and confiscate the body of E.N.D., aka Natsu Dragneel."

The air in the building evaporated. Wendy gasped, and the hand on her head tightened in its pull. A loud creaking broke the silence, and Wendy saw Makarov struggling to keep tabs on his magic power.

"On what grounds?"

The entirety of the guild murmured agreement and buzzed with the same question.

"He was one of many demons of Zeref, and the only one we know of whose body remains. As the governing body, we reserve the right to conduct research and do whatever we believe necessary to prevent such crimes from happening in the future."

Wendy covered her mouth to stifle her sobs. She didn't want to believe anything that was happening. Makarov pressed again.

"What crime happened here that involved Natsu?"

The older man in charge looked at Fairy Tail's master before giving a dry chuckle that elicited several bad reactions from the guild.

"You must jest," he said, his face turning serious. "His very _existence_ was a crime."

The sound of cracking, splintering wood followed in the next split second. No one took those words well, but to the surprise of those present, Gajeel reacted the strongest. The dragon slayer fumed, bellowing at the councilman.

"SAY THAT SHIT AGAIN!"

Lily, in his battle form, struggled to keep Gajeel restrained. Levy held him about the waist from behind, Juvia trying to get his piercing red eyes to focus on her.

"Get outta my way, woman!"

He snarled and gnashed his teeth, roiling in Lily's grasp.

"I WILL FUCKING PULVERIZE YOU OLD GEEZER!"

Wendy couldn't stop the tears flowing. She had to agree with Gajeel. How could anyone say something so terrible about Natsu? She heard Erza's teeth grinding above her. Gray, moved from the job board, had his demon markings lining up his arm. His neck hairs bristled and Wendy felt intense cold emanating from him.

"Enough!"

Makarov's voice rose over the protests of the guild members. After a few moments, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You have a document that makes this official, I assume?"

The councilman, apparently unfazed by Fairy Tail's outrage, nodded. Makarov tapped his foot on the floor.

"Then I suppose I can't do anything about it."

Roars anew, now aimed at the master, boiled up. A clap of thunder from outside drew their attention back to the entrance. The councilman turned and stared up at the tall form of Laxus Dreyar. The lightning dragon slayer regarded him with his usual half-lidded scowl, though even from where she sat, Wendy could see the fury in his glare. Laxus walked on ahead, shoving past the older man on the way. The councilman began to make a complaint. Laxus paused, glancing over his shoulder. Wendy saw the lightning sparking in his eyes.

"Oh," he said, in his typical bored tone. "Sorry. I didn't see you there."

The two men glared at each other for another moment before Laxus shrugged and moved on into the guild. Makarov cut off the councilman before he could start anything.

"Is that your only business here?"

The councilman grimaced and nodded, swiveling around to exit the guild. Wendy looked through teary eyes at Makarov before she ran out after them, along with many of the other guild members.

She watched, mortified, as they used magic to rip and tear at the earth around Natsu's grave. She shuddered, still crying in gasping sobs. They were so callous with his grave, what would they do to his body? Wendy felt a hand come to rest on her head.

"Oi," Gajeel's graveled voice murmured. "You wanted to say something to Salamander, right?"

Wendy looked up at the iron dragon slayer. His face remained impassive, betrayed by the tension of the veins in his neck. Levy stood on the other side of him, sniffling. The blue-haired script mage nodded at Wendy.

"You should do it now," she said, stepping in front of Gajeel to face Wendy. "He won't be so easy to find after this."

Wendy sobbed harder at the idea. She bit her lip and pressed her head to Gajeel's side.

"I d-don't want them to hear it," she said, indicating the men from the magic council. "I didn't want to talk to them. Just Natsu-san."

Gajeel's hand squeezed her head lightly.

"Then whisper, kid," he said. "Salamander'll hear you."

Levy nodded at Wendy. The young dragon slayer gulped, stepping toward the gravesite until one of the frogmen shot her a warning glare. She ignored it, muttering into her hand.

"G-good morning, Natsu-san," she said. She tugged at her hair with her other hand. "I hope you are resting easy. Though I- I guess you wouldn't ever want to do that."

She smiled a bit at the thought of Natsu trying to sit still. She brought her hand from her face, using both to twine strands of her long hair together.

"Everyone here misses you," she said, sniffling hard. "The guild isn't the same without you here. It's too quiet. I don't think I like that so much."

She took a deep breath and shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"You were like a big brother to me," she said, voice quieter than before. "I wouldn't have the family I do now without you. S-so, even though you might not want to hear it, thank you."

She raised her chin, wiping the tears away to clean her face. New ones replaced them faster than she could clear them.

"I promise to get stronger to protect the guild the way you would," she said. "And I'll help look after Happy."

She winced, feeling the urge to bite her tongue. Part of her still didn't want to see the blue Exceed, but she knew he would need loving like everybody else.

"Please rest well, wherever you are," she said. "Because we'll take care of Fairy Tail."

The young dragon slayer breathed a little easier. She gasped at the way the frogmen smashed open Natsu's casket, letting the fire mage's body crumple to the ground. She couldn't watch anymore- she ran full pelt past Gajeel toward Erza.

"Erza-san," she sobbed. The requip mage had changed into her white blouse and blue skirt by the time Wendy reached her, anticipating her need for a hug. Wendy pressed her face against the soft fabric. "Why are they taking him?"

Wendy didn't get an answer. She cried, sniffling and gripping Erza's waist harder. The young dragon slayer knew there wasn't an appropriate answer she could be given. That didn't help her feel any better about it.

* * *

 **A/N:** Poor Wendy. I don't know how else to 'note' this chapter.

If you liked this, leave a review! If not, tell me why you clicked on a tragedy story and wanted to be sad!


	4. Debt

Disclaimer: No matter the stuff I put out on here, I don't own Fairy Tail.

* * *

 **Debt**

"Gajeel."

Said dragon slayer grumbled and shifted on the couch in his apartment. He cracked an eye open to scowl at Lily.

"What."

The black Exceed stood on the cushion next to the mage's head. He wore a serious expression.

"We need to pick up food," he said. He gestured toward the pantry, which had been left open and whose shelves looked barren. "We're out of essentials, like kiwi."

Gajeel grunted and rolled onto his side.

"You know where the money is," he said. "You get it."

A weight on his head told him Lily had hopped into his long matted hair.

"No," Lily said. "You need to get out of the house."

"I ain't shopping."

"Then let's do a job."

Gajeel sat up on the couch to better glare at his cat.

"I would," he said, pointing a finger at Lily. "If you would go pick one out!"

The Exceed crossed his tiny arms, unfazed by the dragon slayer's grimace.

"I don't understand why you expect me to do it for you."

Gajeel threw up his hand.

"You're my cat! Ain't that a good enough reason?"

A beat passed where Lily held Gajeel's gaze.

"No."

The iron wizard stood up, grumbling irritation. He had snatched up any jobs that promised a fight days before after Salamander's grave had been ransacked. They didn't pose much of a challenge to him, and with Lily as his partner, they were child's play. Gajeel had good reason for not wanting to go out, but he also didn't feel like being near the guildhall. His mood worsened just thinking about it.

"Fine," he muttered, pulling on a cloak. He brought the hood low over his face, and pointed at Lily again. "You stay put. Everyone will recognize me otherwise."

The Exceed didn't make any protest, only nodding. Gajeel murmured under his breath while he pulled out their stash of jewels and slammed it back into the cupboard over his sink when he fished out what he needed. He appreciated that Lily at least understood why he didn't want to be noticed in public.

Gajeel kept his head low and wandered through the market in Magnolia. He picked out a few kiwis in the hopes they might get Lily off his case. He spent most of his time checking out seafood and various meats; actual iron material was more expensive than iron-rich food, so he had to get his fix in creative ways. The dragon slayer tuned out the rest of the people milling around him. He didn't notice when he bumped into someone and something tugged his cloak.

Gajeel picked out a massive pile of meats, rummaging in his pocket for the money to pay for it. He tensed and keyed his heightened senses back in to his surroundings when the owner of the stand placed a hand over his. He looked up and cringed.

"For you," she said, pushing the money he'd laid on the counter back toward him. "This is free."

The dragon slayer grimaced, realizing his hood had come off. He stood rooted in front of the stand, struggling to keep his temper checked.

"I don't take hand outs."

The woman raised her eyebrows, and brought a hand to her chest, acting indignant. Gajeel's jaw tightened. He recognized the pretense she put on. Regardless of where he went, he found himself on the receiving end of some sort of attention that made him uncomfortable and embittered him.

"No, please," she pressed. The hand Gajeel had on the meat flexed, his fingers digging into the fresh cuts. "I just want to give back to"

He slammed a fist down on the wood of the stand, ignoring the stares he attracted. He hissed through gritted teeth.

"Fairy Tail doesn't _want_ your pity, lady."

He pushed the money back toward her and shoved the meat into his burlap sack with the rest of his groceries, stalking away from the stand.

"... better off without that freak."

Gajeel's keen ears caught the murmurs and whispers of people who liked gossiping when they thought he couldn't hear them. He was used to being referred to by worse names, though.

"Yeah, three dragon slayers are bad enough."

He slowed. The black-haired mage focused on the pitch of the voice he'd heard make that particular comment.

"That pinky always blew things up too much," it continued. Gajeel dropped his bag. "Really, a waste of a"

The man who'd been talking into his mobile lacrima found himself hoisted up into the air by his collar at Gajeel's hands. The dragon slayer had to pull him up several inches before their faces were level. He let out a low growl from deep in his throat.

"Go on," he said, his face contorting into a snarl. "Tell me how much of a waste 'pinky' was."

The iron dragon slayer twisted the material of the guy's collar in his fingers, tightening the fabric around his neck. The no name in his grip stuttered between labored breaths, and Gajeel's other hand curled into a fist, ready to vent his rigid fury.

"Gajeel," a light voice said. "Put him down."

The pierced mage glanced down and caught Levy glaring up at him. Her eyebrows were furrowed together, and both her hands were balled into fists. He didn't miss the pleading shimmer in her eyes that betrayed her scolding expression. Growling, Gajeel dropped his victim without ceremony to the ground, swiveling to retrieve his bag and storm back toward his apartment. He moved in long strides to outpace the solid script mage. He got to his apartment door and turned to slam it shut when Levy's hand caught it. The blue-haired wizard huffed from keeping up, but nonetheless entered without asking. She shut the door behind her. Gajeel watched her catch her breath for a minute before he flung his bag toward his pantry and turned his back to her.

"Come on in, Shrimp," he said, not caring how ruthless his tone sounded. "Don't bother closing the door. You can invite your friends over here to annoy the crap outta me some more."

"Gajeel," Levy started. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

The dragon slayer brushed off Lily's questioning looks and tossed him a kiwi. He tore his cloak from around him and threw it onto his floor.

"Don't act innocent with me," he said. He paced across the mess on his floor, kicking up discarded clothes when they caught on his feet. "People keep showing up claiming they wondered where I was."

He dropped onto his couch. Levy sighed and paced over to him.

"Did it ever occur to you that they might actually be concerned about you?"

The dragon slayer couldn't resist a dry chuckle. He laughed harder at the exasperated face Levy made.

"I'm serious, Gajeel. You know you can't keep being angry with Mast"

The iron mage crossed the distance between the couch and Levy in an instant, clamping a hand over her mouth. He glowered down at her, holding a finger up.

"Don't," he hissed. "Not in the mood."

The blue-haired wizard just looked back at him with wide eyes. After a minute of silence, he let go. He crossed his arms and craned his neck back to avoid looking at her.

"What're ya doing here, Shrimp?"

He waited for Levy to say something. When he didn't get an answer, he glanced down again.

"Well?"

She pouted a bit and slid her gaze sideways.

"I was going to say I wanted to see you," she said. "But since you obviously won't believe that, I guess I'll just go."

Gajeel rolled his eyes as Levy turned on her heel to stomp back to his door. He turned around and headed to his bedroom.

"Fine!"

He plopped down on his bed with more force than necessary, groans and squeaks from the aged frame whining at his weight. He heard the door slam and huffed, glaring a hole into the ceiling.

Only a moment later he realized Levy's scent hadn't left his apartment. He rolled onto his side. She came here, she could tell him what she wanted. He lasted minutes before he caved in to her stubbornness.

"Still there, Shorty?"

A shaky breath came from behind him. Despite his internal groan, he twisted his neck to look into the living room. The solid script mage stood in the doorway to his bedroom. The dragon slayer didn't miss the slight trembling of her small form. He rolled onto his back, propping himself up with an elbow.

"Shrimp?"

Levy still didn't say anything. She paced up to his mattress and, to his surprise, pressed her face on his chest. The iron mage couldn't move, stunned into stillness.

"Levy?"

In a whisper so quiet his keen ears almost didn't catch it, she murmured.

"Lu-chan still hasn't come back."

He stiffened. He had no idea how to handle a distraught Levy. Her concern didn't come as any surprise to him; he knew better than most how much love and empathy the script mage possessed in her tiny body. Eventually she ended up on the mattress with him, through a series of gestures he guessed might be comforting and her own volition. He didn't move other than to accommodate her, which wasn't hard. She'd shed a few tears on his clothes before she finished telling him how worried she was.

"I just know she's falling apart over Natsu," Levy said, fisting Gajeel's sleeve in her hand. "But I can't even talk to her about it." She sobbed lightly, and her breath caught before she could speak again. "I don't know how to help her, Gajeel."

The dragon slayer lay and wondered at the smaller mage in his bed. Levy quieted after a spell. Her breathing evened out and despite the hour, Gajeel could tell she was on the precipice of sleep. He didn't know if he meant for her to hear what he muttered or not.

"Why'd ya come to me about this," he asked. "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"You don't have to do anything," she said, eyelids fluttering in a struggle to stay open. "You've already helped. Don't want you to fix things, just let me talk," she said, stifling a yawn. "For all the tough guy bravado you put up, you're a great listener."

Gajeel scoffed, with less aggression or certainty than usual, and turned away from the script mage.

Somehow, Gajeel found himself being led back to the guildhall later that day, trudging behind Levy with Lily on his shoulder. The script mage had worked hard to put him in a better mood to persuade him into agreeing.

That lightened attitude darkened the instant the entrance opened. Gajeel took one breath of the air in the hall and his lips pulled back in a snarl, almost on instinct.

"This some kinda sick joke?" He asked in a harsh whisper. The dragon slayer swept around the room with his eyes.

"What"

"Did the old man fucking tell them to cut open his body here," he said, yelling. His hands curled into fists. "His scent is _everywhere_!"

"Gajeel."

Levy gripped his fingers like a vice and drew his eyes back to her with an icy tone. The iron mage huffed, turning to leave again. Levy jerked him back and pointed into the guild.

After fixing her with another glare, he followed the path of her finger; Wendy sat alone, save Charla, at one of the booths. But she wore familiar white fabric around her neck. Gajeel's expression shifted.

Wendy rubbed her fingers on Salamander's scarf. The iron wizard glanced down at Levy, who nodded her head for him to approach the younger slayer. His mouth dry, he walked over.

"Yo," he said, catching Wendy's attention. The young mage smiled a little at him in greeting. He scratched his head through his thick hair. "Can I, uh..." She nodded.

Gajeel sat down across from her, staring at the scaled material of the muffler. It explained why he could smell Salamander in the guildhall again, even if the scent had faded somewhat. He rested an arm on the table.

"Master fought hard with the councilman to get them to leave it behind," she whispered. Gajeel swallowed, watching and listening with all his attention. His ire toward Makarov wavered. "Levy-san helped him find some kind of technicality in that document they brought."

Gajeel smirked. He'd left once they'd broken the casket open, because he didn't trust himself to keep from bashing in frogmen skulls.

"That sounds like Shrimp."

Wendy's little hand balled up the material and she buried her nose in it.

"Everyone agreed that it should go either to Happy or Lucy-san," she said. She cast her eyes down to the table, her other hand petting Charla. "But neither of them have come to the guild since then. So we've taken turns looking after it." She brought her gaze back up to meet Gajeel's. "Today is my turn."

The iron dragon slayer just gave a curt nod. He didn't know what else to say. He started to get up, but froze when he picked out the petrifying glares coming from Mira, Lisanna and Levy. He sat right back down. Wendy came to his rescue since words still proved difficult for the stoic mage.

"Do you ever wish you'd said something to him you didn't get the chance to?"

He drummed his fingers on the table, looking through Wendy rather than at her.

"Not to his face," he said after a pause. "But yeah, I guess."

Wendy shifted in her seat, and Gajeel could tell eye contact became a struggle for her.

"Like what?"

He started opening his mouth to tell her it wasn't any of her business, but caught himself. He grumbled. He glanced over at Levy, who'd since been swarmed by the other two of her team. Gajeel reflected on how forgiving she was and what he'd been before he joined Fairy Tail. His tension waned and he leaned toward Wendy to whisper low, so only their ears could hear him.

"Thanks, mostly."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hmm. This one isn't one of my best, but upset Gajeel is tricky. I'd appreciate more than usual (which is saying something) feedback on how I did with this chapter.

If you enjoyed reading this, leave a review! Otherwise, use the review box to... actually, I'm blanking. But type something, please!


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